CHAPTER 23
Chère Cassie,
Je t’aime.
Cordialement,
Alex Trebek
At breakfast the next morning, Cassie tells Madison that she wants a retest. She even follows all the rules of her punishment, sitting at the counselors’ table without any dramatics or arguments.
“Please,” Cassie asks, a fake wide grin on her face, and Madison agrees.
I go through the line, grabbing an extra piece of toast, and bring it over to Cassie.
“Are you trying to make me look like Bek?” she asks.
“Eat it. You need it.”
Cassie groans. “It better not have butter on it.”
“Trust me. I know you better than you think.”
She narrows her eyes and wipes her finger across the dry bread.
I shrug at her before walking away, then watch her from across the mess hall to make sure she takes at least a few bites. She does. She doesn’t eat the whole thing, but she eats some, which is better than where she started.
After breakfast, I stay in the mess hall to decorate our papier-mâché masks. Hayes sets out paint and gives us what he calls an “intention” for the activity.
“Let the world know who you are today. For today is all we have. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never happen.”
Grover puts his finger up in the air. “Technically, this moment is all we have if you really think about it. And then it’s gone. Isn’t it weird that everything that’s coming out of my mouth is going directly into the past? Like just a few seconds ago when I said, ‘technically this moment is all we have.’ That is a memory now. And that is a memory now. And that is a memory now.”
“Yes.” Hayes seems to falter in his evenness.
Grover points at him. “You saying that is now a memory! So what you really want us to do is paint who we are presently, knowing that it will be who we were in the past the second it’s actually there.”
“Yes.” Hayes drags out the word like he’s not sure what is really going on. I nudge Grover in the side.
“Got it. Geez. I’m gonna need to think about this.”
“I think you think too much,” Hayes says.
“I think you’re probably right about me thinking too much. But if all of life turns into a memory the moment after it happens, all we really have are our thoughts. And mine have a possible impending expiration date, so I better use them while I can. Don’t you think?”
“Sure.” Hayes now looks totally confused. Satisfaction spreads on Grover’s face. “Let’s get started.”
“Let’s make some memories!” Grover yells.
But I’m too distracted thinking about Cassie and Grover’s lips and the fact that who we are at this moment is not who we will be. I don’t want to waste time wondering who I am. I just want to be.
When Hayes asks us all to show our completed masks to the group, mine is blank.
“Interesting choice, Durga, and quite poetic,” he says.
“Genius,” Grover counters. His mask is a replica of Abraham Lincoln, top hat and all. “No one knows what Grover Cleveland looks like, so I went with the popular president, but you get it.”
“I just figured why waste time looking at who I was in the past,” I say.
“Amen.” Grover smiles.
At the end of the activity, Grover and I leave our masks behind. Those people don’t exist anymore.
Cassie and I stand on the beach waiting for her to retake her swim test. A few counselors watch as well. I’m pretty sure half of them hope she’ll drown. She squeezes her hands at her sides and shakes out her arms.
“Just pretend I’m holding you.”
“God, you’re such a lesbian.” I cock my head at Cassie. “Sorry. That just slipped out.”
“Did you eat?” I ask.
“Of course I ate.”
“You say that like it’s a given.”
“Nothing in life is a given,” Cassie says.
“Did you eat?” I ask again.
“A little. I didn’t feel well.”
“You’re nervous. That’s okay.”
“Sticks!” Grover runs down the steps from the mess hall. A smile grows on Cassie’s face the second she sees him. “Maslow wanted me to give these to you.”
“Fucking Maslow, again?” she snaps.
Grover looks at me. We both shrug at the same time.
Cassie takes a swig from the box of Lemonheads and hands it to me. “If I die it’s your fault.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
“Stop being . . .” Cassie narrows her eyes on me. “Just shut up.”
No snarky remark. She must be really nervous.
Grover and I walk Cassie down to the water. Madison stands in front of the AT CAMP PADUA THERE’S FUN IN FUNDAMENTALS board with a clipboard and a stopwatch in her hand, talking to another counselor. Cassie’s red washer sits on the board like a target.
“You can do this,” I say and squeeze Cassie’s hand.
“Zander’s right,” Grover adds.
“Oh, shut the fuck up. What is this? Group share-apy?” Cassie shakes her hands loose.
Grover smiles. “That’s my girl.”
When Cassie’s standing in the water and Madison is about to start the test, a screaming voice makes everyone freeze.
“Wait!” Bek’s bright red face appears at the top of the steps. He fumbles his way down, carrying a bow and arrow set from the archery field. Judging by his heavy breathing, he must have run the whole way. “Wait!”
Bek almost slips on his face in the sand as he sprints up to Cassie. He drops the bow and arrow on the beach and runs straight into the water, shoes and all. He grabs her by the arms.
“What the hell, Baby Fat? Get your sweaty paws off of me.”
But Bek doesn’t listen to Cassie. Before anyone has a moment of warning, he plants his lips on top of Cassie’s and kisses her. She freezes, Bek’s chubby fingers holding on to her skinny arms. Grover and I gasp at the same time along with everyone else watching.
When he finally pulls back, Bek still doesn’t let go. Cassie stands, her two feet like cement blocks unable to move.
“All right, Bek!” Grover yells and claps loudly. He puts his two fingers in his mouth and blows a loud whistle. The sound must shock Cassie out of her trance because she finally shakes free from Bek and takes a step back. She winds up her arm and smacks his face.
“Get away from me, Porky,” she snaps.
He falls back in the water, but catches himself before toppling over. As he walks out of Lake Kimball, his hand on his red cheek, a wide smile sits on his face.
“Je t’aime,” he whispers as he walks past Grover and me in a haze and heads back up the steps without another word.
I turn to Grover. “What the hell just happened?”
“I think Bek finally hit his target.” He smirks. I study the slope of Grover’s nose and the way the end curves slightly off to the right. I think I know the feeling. At this moment, I’m so thankful for imperfections.
“I think I want to take Spanish next year instead of French,” I whisper to him.
“Wise choice, señorita.”
Madison explains that Cassie must first swim between the docks twice in any stroke that she chooses to prove that she can swim at least one of them.
“It doesn’t have to be good,” Cassie clarifies.
“No,” Madison says. “Just don’t put your feet down.” And for a moment, Madison examines Cassie with a genuine look of affection and says, “You can do this.”
“Whatever, J.Crew,” Cassie scoffs, ignoring the moment.
When that’s done, she must go to the deep side of the H dock and tread for five minutes.
Cassie walks out farther into the water and dips her body down. She covers herself to her shoulders, surrounded by what she was so afraid of just a little while ago. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, like when the sun comes up in the desert and coats the sky like a healing blanket. But my whole body gets tight when Madison blows her whistle, even my breathing.
“It’s just me, Mads. You don’t need to be so fucking formal.” Cassie flicks water at her, getting Madison’s legs and shorts wet.
“Let’s do this,” Madison says.
Grover grabs my hand and I squeeze back.
“Trust yourself!” I yell to Cassie. She looks back at us. I nod and smile at her.
Grover clutches my hand tighter. At the same time, we start to repeat, “We pray to Saint Anthony that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting.”
When Cassie walks out of the water after the test, she picks up the arrow Bek dropped on the sand and walks over to the board where her red washer hangs. Cassie slams the arrow right through the center.
Bull’s-eye.